Something Wicked
by Giant-Rubber-Duck
Summary: Someone or Something is attacking the Nations. England gets stuck at the center of it all with no idea what's really going on. No consequential pairings. T like all my stories for my potty mouth and Prussia.  And probably England.
1. Chapter 1

I know I should be working on "Youthful Nature"…but I just couldn't get this out of my head.

No story pairings planned, though side pairings might hint their way in. You can probably see a touch of Germany/Italy in this chapter, and other somewhat cannon-ish pairings might find their way in (such as Su/Fin if they appear) but nothing that bothers with plots.

Please send in a review when you are done and let me know if I should continue this (don't worry, I'm still working on "Youthful Nature" too.)

Generic Disclaimer: Yeah, I don't own shit. I'm a college student, I'm lucky I have a computer to type this on. No suing please.

* * *

Arthur Kirkland walked into the visitor's lobby of the hospital. He'd been here every day for the past three weeks. He was beginning to wonder why he came at all. No matter how many times he came, nothing changed. What good did it do visiting someone who didn't even know you were there?

Italy greeted him as usual in the lobby. Though he tried to look like his normal, cheerful self, but it was easy to see he was anxious.

"Any change?" England asked as the two walked through the white hallways of the English hospital.

The Italian shook his head. "Nothing. The doctors did some more tests yesterday, but they still can't figure out why he won't wake up. England…what if he doesn't wake up? I'm worried about Ludwig."

"He'll wake up, Italy. We just have to wait." He knocked on the closed door of the hospital room. Germany opened the door, a dead look on his face.

"Hello again, England."

"Hello, Germany. How is he?"

"Still the same."

Arthur looked towards the bed. He looked so unnatural, hooked up to all those machines. Only the steady beep of his heart monitor and the slow rise and fall of his chest proved he was still alive.

"I'll go get you some more water, Ludwig."

"Yes. _Danke_ Feliciano."

He thought back to the last time he'd seen the unconscious man before the accident. It'd been the morning after their monthly epic outing to various countries' bars. As usual, all three nations had rolled out of bed late in the morning, their normal hangovers causing their heads to throb. The idiot had to decide to go to the airport alone, before he'd gotten over the previous night's drinking.

England had gotten the call a few hours later, shortly after Denmark had left.

Gilbert Beilschmidt had been hit by a truck while crossing the street not far from his house.

* * *

Germany sighed solemnly. "He's been stable long enough, they've set up to move him to Berlin tomorrow."

Gilbert, being a former nation, had healed of all his wounds quickly. Hardly a mark was still there from the various injures that had covered the albino's body after the accident. The only proof that the Prussian had ever been hurt was that he just wouldn't wake-up.

"You haven't left this room since you arrived in England three weeks ago. Italy is worried about you."

The German put a hand to his forehead. "I know…he's been so good over these past few weeks. His brother is probably furious by now. Feliciano got him to do both their work while he is here."

Work. That was the big problem for all of the nations. France and Spain couldn't spend more than a day or two at a time before their bosses needed them. Canada had been able to visit once, but the trip was so far, it made it difficult to stay for long. Denmark had rushed back and had been able to dodge work for about a week before his boss sent Norway and Sweden to track him down and drag him back. Veneziano had been able to stay was because of Romano, but he brother was really being overworked. Only Germany had been let out of work to watch over his brother, and England was pretty sure his boss was starting to regret that decision. Germany had been getting call after call from Berlin for the past 2 weeks wondering if Prussia could be moved yet.

The door opened wide, revealing Italy carrying a couple of bottles of water. A nurse walked in with him.

"Sorry to interrupt, I just need to check some of the machines."

England turned away from the bed while the nurse worked. He glanced towards the still open door, revealing the hallway filled with various medical staff rushing this way and that. Except for one man who caught the Nation's attention. Their eyes locked as England stared at the man leaning against the wall outside. The man's face had a sudden look of relief on his face when he realized Arthur was really looking at him. But…but it couldn't be! His gaze broke as the nurse left, closing the door behind her.

"Germany. Why don't you and Italy go get something to eat besides hospital food?"

"But…Bruder…"

"I'll watch over him for a little while. You haven't left this hospital in 3 weeks, and you'll have nothing but work when you get back to Berlin." Italy's face brightened at the prospect.

"Come on Ludwig! You need a break!"

The German sighed. "Alright, but just for lunch. Call me if anything, _anything_, changes."

"Don't worry, I will." England watched as Italy practically pulled Germany out of the hospital. He then stepped to the side as the man from the hallway dashed in.

"YOU CAN SEE ME! Fuck, this is AWESOME! I've been poking West for weeks, WEEKS! He hasn't noticed a fucking thing! Fuck, do you know how hard it is to have no one to talk to for 3 WEEKS?" He ran a hand through his white hair as the English nation gapped.

"Gilbert…How are you…_here_ when you're also _over there_?"

"Ya know, I still haven't figured that out…I'm not dead, so I'm not a ghost. But I can sure act like a ghost. It was the freakiest thing when someone walked through me! I'm just standing there and BAM! Doctor goes right through me. Weirdest thing EVER, and I've been around a LOOOOOng time…"

"Gilbert…Prussia…PRUSSIA!" Gilbert stopped rambling.

"Sorry, I haven't talked _to_ anyone in a while…"

"It's alright. If you've been around, why haven't I seen you before?"

"Well, I haven't really seen you here before. I would only really come back up here at night to bug West and try and get him to notice me. It's really weird to look at yourself when you're unconscious, ya know? Well, guess you wouldn't, most people wouldn't…except me now…"

He was rambling again.

"Gilbert…have you tried just…getting back in your body?" Wow, that sounded strange.

"Yeah, tried it every day. But I can't."

"What do you mean? Can't?"

"It's weird, watch." Gilbert walked over to his unconscious body and put a hand towards his chest. As his hand got closer, a strange blue shield seemed to block his way. "No matter where I try, this thing pops up. Can't get any closer than a few inches." The Prussian paused. "How come you can see me, anyway? Is it cause you see other weird stuff?"

England was honestly bewildered. "I can see the Fae, not weird stuff. As for you, I really don't know. Spirits are not something I've ever really seen before. At least not ones that no one else could see…"

"Meh, you know what? Who cares why you can see me, at least now I have someone to talk to!"

"But, Germany said you were going back to Berlin tomorrow. I can't spend all my time in Germany, Gilbert."

The Prussian sighed. "Ja…here's the thing. I can't go back to Berlin unless I want to swim."

"Swim?"

"Yup. I can sit in chairs, lean against walls, climb stairs and what not, but I can't ride in cars. Or trains. Or airplanes. Trust me, I've tried. I can sit down in a car when it isn't moving, but as soon as it goes I go right through the back."

"So…what are you going to do?" Gilbert grinned. Oh.

Arthur let out a long sigh. "Fine, you can stay with me."

"Awesome! Oh, one more weird thing. I still need sleep. And food and water."

"Really?" Strange…if he were really a spirit, he shouldn't need any of those things. "Can you even touch food or water?"

"Ja, I can touch things, but it takes a lot of concentration. And before you ask, I've tried to get West's attention by moving stuff, but it doesn't work. Nobody notices anything floating through the air, just that it's missing or in a different place when I set it back down."

"Have you tried writing anything?"

"Tried it once, but it was really hard. Took too much concentration to try and concentrate on holding and using the pencil."

Gilbert's current situation was sounding stranger and more familiar to England. His interactions with the world were sounding very reminiscent of the traits the Fae had when working with the world.

"Gilbert…after you left my house a few weeks ago…what exactly happened?"

* * *

Gilbert rolled out of the bed. What he remembered of the previous night had been seriously Awesome. Unfortunately, the hangover that was attacking his brain was thoroughly unawesome. He traipsed down the stairs to find his companions, Arthur and Mathias, in the kitchen, each nursing equally unawesome hangovers. Last night had been some night.

West, being in an unawesome mood when Gilbert had left for England's place, had demanded that his brother leave England before noon. It was 11:00 now. Damn.

He grabbed all his things, though he hadn't brought much. His pants seemed to be missing, but a pair of England's would work, they were about the same size. Gilbert was glad he got drunk so often, the headache was already fading.

After a quick goodbye to his fellow drinking buddies, he rushed out the door. Arthur's house was on a bit of a side street in London, so Gilbert walked toward the nearest main road, where it was easier to hail a cab. Part way down the next street, he came across an old lady who was trying to bring in some shopping bags from her car.

"Excuse me, young man." Gilbert almost laughed. He was easily 10 times her age. "Could I trouble you to help me for a moment? This bag is far too heavy for me to carry inside."

Why not? It wouldn't take much time. Gilbert picked the bag up out of the car, along with a few others for good measure, and followed the woman into the house.

"Oh, thank you, young man. Let me get you a glass of something for your troubles." Before Gilbert could even respond, the elderly woman handed him a glass of some sort of juice. The Prussian downed the glass, thanked the woman, and headed back on his way.

A little ways down the road, Gilbert realized that his best route was across the street. He glanced around before stepping out into the roadway. The sound of screeching tires filled his ears as he felt the pain burn through him. As the pain overtook him, everything went black.

* * *

"…Woke up a little while later as they were hauling my body into an ambulance. Followed them to the hospital and been freaking out ever since."

"You didn't see the truck before it hit you?"

"Nope, looked both ways and everything, just like a good little boy scout."

England was about to reply when Germany and Italy walked back into the room.

"Have a good meal?"

"Yes, thank you England. For everything."

"It is no problem. I must be on my way now, good afternoon Germany, Italy."

"Goodbye, England," Germany smiled, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. He was far too worried about his unconscious brother. Italy waved as Arthur left the room. Gilbert walked through the door after him.

"Hey, so what should we do? I'm not going to be stuck like this forever, am I?"

England shook his head in exasperation. "Listen," He hissed, "We'll figure something out. Now I'm not going to talk anymore until we get to my house. Everyone is going to think I'm a nutter, talking to myself."

"Oh, right. Well, everyone thinks you're a nutter anyway, but if you're so worried, it's cool."

England sighed. He was moments away from beating his head against the wall next to him. This was going to be a long…however long this was going to be. At least he wouldn't have to deal with the now rambling Prussian for long before he could yell at him. His house wasn't far.

* * *

It'd been a few days since Prussia's body had gone back to Berlin. Gilbert, however, spent most of his time camped on England's couch. He'd spent the last couple days practicing picking things up, something he hadn't really focused on in the hospital. Actually, he'd gotten quite good, good enough to make some simple food and change the television channel. He'd definitely figured out how to drink beer, anyway. As it turned out, Gilbert could see the Fae in his current form, and had managed to not only take it in stride, but get into a drinking contest with a unicorn. It was still unclear who had won.

"Gilbert, come on." Arthur had spent the past few days looking at various texts he had covering spirits, though he didn't have many. None had given him any insight into a situation like Prussia's.

"What, we going somewhere?"

"I want to look at the place you got hit, see if there is anything strange there that could help explain this."

They left quickly, Gilbert didn't really need to do much to get ready, and headed down the street. They were almost to the scene of the accident when Gilbert stopped short. Arthur accidentally walked right through the Prussian.

"Gilbert, don't do that! Do you know how weird it feels? I can actually _see_ you when I do it, and it feels cold and creepy and…Gilbert?"

He was gaping at an empty plot in front of him. "This…but…THERE SHOULD BE A HOUSE HERE!"

"What?"

"That little old lady! She lived RIGHT HERE!"

"Are you sure?"

"Ja! I remember, the house next door has that weird gnome collection! It was here, I swear!"

"It's been almost 4 weeks…quick demolition job?"

"Did you notice one?"

England shook his head. "But I don't come this way often. The hospital is in the opposite direction, and to get to work I take a different road."

"She didn't look like she was getting ready to move though…"

"Come on, we can check some of the records, see if anyone lived here recently."

* * *

England had been pouring over the record books for hours, but it seemed like no one had EVER lived on that particular plot. Something about the ground right there being unsuitable to build a good foundation.

"You know, you're phone just vibrated over there." Prussia had just wandered back into the room. He'd apparently been entertaining himself for the past few hours by sticking his hand through the Prime Minister's brain.

England picked up his phone to see one new voicemail and one new text message. He played the voicemail first.

Oh goody, America.

"_Yo! I'm at your house and you aren't!_" Shit. "_Found you spare key at let myself in. You should get back here!_" England looked at the time of the call. A little over an hour ago. Shit.

He opened the text message, praying it wouldn't say something about the git burning his house to the ground.

_From: Alfred – _

_Help. Please. Soon._

Arthur almost dropped his phone. Alfred hadn't asked for his help since…the Seven Years War…

"We have to go. Now." He grabbed his things and rushed out of the office, followed quickly by Prussia.

* * *

"Alfred? Are you still here?"

"I'm in the kitchen." Well, the house was still standing and nothing really seemed out of place.

Arthur walked into the kitchen to find America sitting in one of the chairs, his elbows resting on the table while his hands cradled his face. He could just barely see a tear behind the American's hands.

"…Alfred?" Arthur noticed a small fairy perched on Alfred's shoulder, running a hand calmingly through his hair.

"I'm sorry Arthur, I will never ever make fun of you for your fairies again. Damn helpful little things." He didn't take his face out of his hands. Gilbert wandered up next to Arthur.

"Alfred…what happened?"

Hands never leaving his face, Alfred sighed. "I was just hanging out here, waiting for you to get back, when there was a knock on the door. I answered it to find this little old lady. Figured she was looking for you, so I told her you weren't here, but I could tell you she called."

"And then?"

"She jumped at me! I so surprised I fell backwards. Tried to get her off, but her hand wrapped around my throat and I suddenly felt like I had no energy at all. I couldn't move. She started…talking I guess, but in a language I'd never heard anything like. Next thing I know I've got a killer headache and she's back out the door and gone."

"Maybe it was the same nut who did something to me."

"Gilbert? I..I thought you were in the hospital…"

"You…You can hear me? Can you see me too?"

"No."

Prussia gave Alfred a look. "How would you know? You haven't tried." The fairy that rested on the American's shoulder looked as though she were about to cry.

"Because…" Alfred raised his head out of his hands. Normally sky blue eyes were hidden behind a layer of dense fog. "I can't see _anything_."

* * *

I should probably be working on "Youthful Nature"…whoops.

Please send me reviews and let me know if I should continue this. It's a pretty weird story, at least what I have so far, and parts of it are probably going to be kind of dark.

REVIEW!

~Duckie


	2. Chapter 2

Prussia asks readers to please be Awesome and review after reading this chapter!

* * *

Alfred raised his head out of his hands. Normally sky blue eyes were hidden behind a layer of dense fog. "I can't see _anything_."

Arthur and Gilbert were speechless, both staring at America. A cold silence hung in the room. White eyes narrowed into an unseeing glare.

"Okay, if you guys are trying to give me a "look", it won't work. You gotta actually _say_ something, I. Can't. See. You."

"Alfred…" England pulled a chair up in front of the younger nation and placed a hand on his shoulder. America jumped at his touch, not expecting the contact. "You really can't see anything at all?" It was sort of a stupid question, he'd already made that pretty clear.

Alfred sighed. "Everything is just a kind of soft white. If I focus really hard I can almost see your outline, but it's like looking at a shadow in a really thick fog. It doesn't really change anything." Those strange, white eyes looked like they were going to well up with tears soon. "What am I going to do, Arthur? I'm _BLIND_! How am I supposed to do _anything_?"

Arthur gave Alfred's shoulder a squeeze. "Calm down, Alfred, we'll figure something out. If it was magic that took your sight, it's magic that can give it back."

The fairy on Alfred's other shoulder spoke up. "We tried already Arthur. That woman, she spoke in one of the ancient tongues. It was _dark_ magic…"

"What's that mean? It's really impossible?"

"Alfred, keep calm, please. It means it will be very very difficult…if she spoke with one of the ancient tongues, it means her magic was extremely powerful. Dark magic in those times was far more powerful than light magic. It seems she was trying to make it as hard as she could for us."

"That makes it sound pretty impossible, Arthur." Alfred's voice had a bite to it.

"We'll figure something out. But for now, you're staying here. It's probably for the best if as few of the others know about this as possible."

"So, just you and Gilbert." Alfred paused, the gears slowly turning in his head. "Gilbert…what are you doing here, anyway? I talked to Germany just yesterday, and I'm pretty sure he said you were still unconscious in the hospital."

Gilbert laughed. "Ja, that's where this whole thing gets really weird. I AM still unconscious in the hospital."

"Um…what?"

"Gilbert's body is lying in a hospital in Berlin. Gilbert, however, is not in his body. We now have reason to believe it has something to do with the same woman who attacked you."

"So…then…that…makes…you…a…_GHOST!_" Alfred almost fell backwards out of his chair.

"HEY! I'm not DEAD! Don't call me a ghost until my body is 6 feet under!"

Arthur sighed, trying to get the American to start breathing again, as Gilbert walked up behind the panicking nation.

"See, I can even touch you!" Arthur watched as Gilbert scrunched up his face in concentration. Carefully, he put his hand on Alfred's head. The touch was actually calming the American down. "Scheiße!" Gilbert couldn't hold it any longer and his hand slipped straight through Alfred, who screamed.

"ALFRED! Alright, so technically, he's a ghost, but he's STILL GILBERT! Calm down you bloody git!" To Arthur's surprise, Alfred actually stopped screaming.

"He's still Gilbert…he's still Gilbert…he's a ghost…but he's still Gilbert…" Alfred started to breathe normally again.

"You alright?"

"Yeah…I think I'm good."

"Awesome, I'm gonna go watch TV."

Gilbert walked out of the kitchen to the living room. Right through the wall. Arthur sighed in frustration.

"He just walked through a wall, didn't he?"

How did he know that? "Yes…"

Alfred passed out. (1)

* * *

Over the following few days, Alfred got used to Gilbert being a ghost. He'd stopped freaking out, anyway. Unfortunately, he wasn't getting used to being blind.

He could only get around safely when Arthur was helping him. Gilbert tried to direct the American, but since he could only give him vocal directions, it usually resulted in Alfred tripping over something or running into a wall. It would have been fine if Alfred had just stayed put until Arthur could direct him, but America valued his independence. He wasn't going to let being blind stand between him and his freedom.

A loud crash could be heard throughout the house.

"FUCK!"

Arthur left his room to find Alfred sprawled out in the hallway.

"Alfred, it is two in the morning, where the bloody fuck did you think you were going?"

"I'm going to the kitchen and getting a glass of water." America snarled back.

"You could have woken me up, I would have helped you."

"I DON'T NEED YOUR HELP!" He pushed himself up off the ground and started towards the stairs. After the first step, he started to fall. Arthur grabbed his arm and pulled him back up.

"You're going to hurt yourself."

"I can make it just fine. By. My. Self." Alfred growled back. "I haven't needed your help for 234 years and I DON'T NEED IT NOW!"

Arthur gapped at Alfred. "Is that what this is about to you? There is some nut we know NOTHING about on the loose out there, who used magic that hasn't been seen for centuries, and blinded you in a matter of second! This could be bigger than any of us, and you're worried about the FUCKING REVOLUTION?"

Alfred looked away from the older nation, even though he couldn't see him in the first place.

"Listen to me, Alfred. No matter what happens here, America is still a strong and independent nation. This isn't about nations or independence or revolutions. This is about you. Alfred F. Jones. Do you understand?"

Alfred's face softened. "Yeah…"

"I'm not going to take advantage of you or reclaim America for Britain. I'm here to help you Alfred, alright?"

"Yeah, I know. I'm…sorry Arthur. I guess I've just been on my own for so long I just…"

"It's alright, lad. Now, how bought we head down to the kitchen. I could do with a spot of tea myself." He placed one had on Alfred's shoulder and gripped his elbow with the other. They started down the steps together.

"Hey Iggy, you know where the best place for tea is?"

"Where?"

"Boston's harbor."

"…I could strand you on these stairs right now."

Alfred laughed.

* * *

Germany sat on the bench outside his brother's room. He'd been coming here every day after work ever since they'd come back to Berlin. He'd spend his whole evening here until he needed to head home for sleep. On weekends, he'd just spend the night in his brother's room, just hoping that whatever was keeping him asleep would leave. Gilbert may have been loud and obnoxious, he may have a tendency to break things and come home drunk most nights (if he came home at all), but he was still his brother. They were family, and no matter what happened, he cared about Gilbert.

Lovino had showed up 4 days ago and forced Feliciano back to Italy. The Italy had promised to come back soon, after all, the worst time of year for the countries was almost over. Their work was starting to settle down and they'd have plenty of free time soon. But for now, Germany was left all alone to watch over his brother. It was getting harder and harder to see him day after day without waking up. He was spending more time outside the room, not able to look at Gilbert's unconscious body.

"It breaks my heart to see such a young man wasting away inside a hospital." Ludwig turned to see an older woman in a hospital gown next to him. "Hospitals are for people who are old and have lived their lives like me."

"It's…it's my _Bruder_…he was in an accident some time ago and he still hasn't woken up."

"Is your brother the young man with the white hair? Poor thing…he's in my prayers."

"_Danke_. I'm sure he would be glad to know that."

The elderly woman smiled at Ludwig. "He'll come around soon, I'm sure. He certainly looks like the type to not give up. Well…I should be getting back to my room. They'll start locking the door on me if I keep sneaking out. I am Elsa Schulz, by the way."

"Ludwig, Ludwig Beilschmidt."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Ludwig. I wish your brother all the best." The elderly woman turned and headed back down the hallway, leaning on her cane with every other step.

* * *

England, unfortunately, still had some business to take care of at work, even though the political season had calmed down. He wouldn't be back until late that afternoon, so Gilbert and Alfred sat on the couch, watching TV. Well, Gilbert was watching it, Alfred was listening and demanding Gilbert to tell him what was going on. This was pretty much torture for Alfred, since the Prussian often forgot to explain anything and had managed to find a game of American Football. What it was doing on British television, they'd never know.

"How do you even know the rules to this game? I thought none of you guys in Europe really cared for my football."

"I spend a lot of time in West's basement. I get bored. AW MAN!"

"What? What's happening?"

"Aren't you listening, there was an interception! I can't believe Favre threw a _THIRD_ interception!"

"Seriously? I wish I could see the look on his face." America wasn't exactly a fan of Brett Favre…(2)

"He looks sooo pissed right now, it's hilarious." He started laughing at the odd look on the quarterback's face.

"Argh! If only I could just-"

Prussia stopped laughing at Alfred's sudden intake of breath.

"Alfred? You okay?"

America's white eyes were wide, a smile slowly spread across his lips. "I could see…"

"Um...what?"

"It was only for a moment, like a flash, but I could seriously SEE!"

"Really? That is AWESOME! How'd ya do it?"

"Dunno, I was just trying really, really hard and BAM!"

"Let's try it again! Turn towards me, and I'll hold up some fingers. You try and get the flash thing to work again and tell me how many fingers I'm holding up. Ready?"

"Oh Yeah!" Alfred stared in the direction of the Prussian, focusing all his energy into his eyes. He gasped again as it hit.

"Three!"

"Ja! This is totally Awesome! One more time, just for kicks!"

Alfred stared at Gilbert again. He felt the energy rushing towards his eyes.

Alfred passed out.

* * *

Saturday mid-morning, Ludwig returned to the hospital. He'd spent the night in Gilbert's room again, but gotten an important call first thing that morning. Now, with all his business done, he planned to spend another day with his brother.

When he got to Gilbert's floor, he ran into one of the nurses. Literally. As he helped her stand back up, he recognized her as Hanna Keller, one of the few nurses allowed to look after Gilbert. After all, she was one of the few that had been entrusted with the truth about his brother and himself. He saw her cheeks were damp, she'd obviously been recently crying.

"Hanna, what is that matter?"

"Oh, Herr Beilschmidt! I'm sorry, I should be acting more professional…"

"It's alright, Hanna, now what is bothering you?"

"We lost a patient we'd had for quite a while early this morning. She was the sweetest lady, I guess I'd just gotten too used to having her around."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Do you mind me asking who it was?"

"Not at all, Herr Germany. Her name was Elsa. Elsa Schultz."

Ludwig thought back to the woman who'd been so nice the previous evening. She didn't even look that terribly sick.

"I must be going, Herr Beilschmidt, goodbye!"

"Goodbye Hanna, please send my condolences to her family." Ludwig headed off to his brother's room. Hospitals really were terrible places to be.

* * *

Alfred awoke to feel his soft bed underneath him. At least, he was guessing it was his, he really didn't know. But then again, maybe he could take a quick look at the room…

"Alfred F. Jones, don't you dare." Damn.

"Hey Iggy, you back early or something?"

"No, you've just been passed out for the past few hours."

"Oh."

"Listen Alfred, that trick you figured out. It's neat and all, but you need to use it only in emergencies, alright? Just those couple of times took a lot out of you."

"Ja, and I had to leave you on the floor for the first couple hours you were out."

"Damn."

"Well, now that you're awake, why don't we head downstairs and find something for dinner?"

"Sounds great. Hey Gilbert, what was the final score of that game?"

"Chicago Bears won, it was 27 to –omf!" (3)

"Omf?"

"Oy! What gives?"

"What's up, Gilbert?"

"I tried to walk through the door and…I couldn't…" He placed one of his hands against the door. He pressed against it, but his hand stayed on the same side of the wood. Focusing, he pressed a bit harder, and his hand finally slid straight through the door. "Funny…it's never taken me actual effort to walk through anything before…"

Arthur's phone rang. "Hold on just a moment."

He stepped out into the hallway. Alfred and Gilbert strained to hear the conversation. (4)

"He has? Really?...that's, good to hear…Yes…I'd love to come, as soon as possible…the day after tomorrow? Certainly…yes, goodbye."

England walked back into Alfred's room. He looked and sounded completely serious and concerned about something.

"That was Germany. He called to let me know that Gilbert woke-up just a bit ago."

"I'VE WHAT?"

* * *

(1) Why do all of my stories involve a lot of people passing out?

(2) Brett Favre (pronounced Far-v for some ungodly reason) Quarterback for the Minnesota Vikings for those of you who don't live in America or live in America, but under a rock. Used to be Quarterback for the Green Bay Packers, then retired, then came back the next year as quarterback for New York Jets, then retired, then joined the Minnesota Vikings, then retired, then came BACK for the Minnesota Vikings. A lot of people hate his guts now (including fans of the Vikings).

(3) Real game. Chicago Bears beat the Minnesota Vikings, 27 to 13. It was awesome (I'm kind of a football nut. Drives my dorm floor wild, cause most of the girls here don't care about football. Fools. GO BEARS!)

(4) Nosy, aren't they?

Oh, and please pretend that all the conversations that took place in Germany were in German.

Please, for the love of all that is Hetalia, send me a review. It could be one word, one sentence, one paragraph, or the Odyssey. You don't even really have to talk about the story. I just like hearing from people who actually read what I write!

For those of you who are waiting for updates to "Youthful Nature", soon, I swear. Probably tomorrow even!

That's all for now!

~Duckie


	3. An Unfortunate Update

I'm sorry guys, I never wanted to have to make one of these. Don't worry, none of my stories are dead.

Updates have been slow since, surprise, 19 semester hours at University is kind of time consuming. However, I was excited because I almost had two more chapters of Youthful Nature done, and was then going to try to update everything else.

Anyone who has checked my profile may have seen that in February, I epically murdered my nice shiny laptop with a glass of water poured directly into the keyboard. Luckily, I was able to save almost everything on that computer, however my fanfiction stuff was, in fact, lost.

But no worry, I thought, in my little spare time I shall rewrite what was written and update! It might take a little longer, but I'll do it!

Last night, the Harddrive on my not even 3 month old laptop started making a clicking sound, then shut down my computer. It will not turn on. Everything that was not on my external is gone. Guess what has, once again, been lost?

I'm typing this on a school computer, but since it is finals next week, I can't be on it much longer, as computers are supposed to be reserved for academicy things during this week. I'll be home near the end of next week and can hopefully start rewriting chapters then.

Don't lose hope though, for I WILL update. I am quite a stubborn person and I will not let my stories sit unfinished!

I am so sorry everybody, and I hope to see you soon!

(This Update is being posted on all my stories, even Nordic Switch, so if you read more than one, you'll get this update more than once.)

~Duckie


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